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UNCLE SILAS CRAIG 



THE DANA KIDS 


By 

ROSANNA WATSON 

(A/ ^ 


PHILADELPHIA 

1909 




Copyright, by Rosanna Watson, 1909 


TO 

THE BOYS AND GIRLS OF THE OLD READERS OF 

“Golden Days’^ 

THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY 


INSCRIBED 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I 

The Day Before Thanksgiving 7 

CHAPTER II 

Miss Wiggins Does Her Duty 22 

CHAPTER III 

The Lady and the Silver Dollar .... 34 

CHAPTER IV 

A Little Comforter 41 

CHAPTER V 

Uncle Silas Forgets Something .... 53 

CHAPTER VI 

Mysterious K. Kringle 63 

CHAPTER VII 

Joe and Sue are Repentant 75 

CHAPTER VIII 

Trux Meets Clyde Elgar 89 


CHAPTER IX 

A Lucky Fall loo 

CHAPTER X 

Clyde Gives Credit to the “Kids” . . . iii 

CHAPTER XI 

A Happy Discovery 117 


THE DANA KIDS 


CHAPTER I 

THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING 

When Thomas Dana died he left his 
family in very straightened circumstances. 
There were five children, four boys and 
a baby girl, all under the -age of eleven 
years. 

Truxton, or Trux, as he was gener- 
ally called, was the eldest. A handsome 
little fellow, with gray-blue eyes, and a 
nature that never could see anything 
but the bright side of life, no matter how 
dark the outlook might be. He might 
be hungry, but he would not admit that 
he was, and half frozen in his thin, thread- 
bare garments, but he would not own to 
the fact, even to himself. 


7 


THE DANA KIDS 


The next boy was Caleb, a year and a 
half younger than Trux. A close third 
was Winchell, commonly designated 
Winch ‘Tor short,’’ and little Tommy, 
“four going on five,” as he was particu- 
lar to let everyone know who asked him 
his age. 

Last, but by no means the least, was 
Elsie, the baby. Blossom, as they all 
liked best to call her, such a sweet, flower- 
faced little thing was she. Their mother, 
a small, delicate woman, did not look 
able to successfully bring up such a 
sturdy, growing quartet of boys, and 
really felt a hopelessness that she tried 
in vain to conceal. 

Mr. Dana had now been dead three 
months, and here it was mid-November, 
and the two tall poplars shading the 
south window of their humble home, 
situated not far from the high altitude of 
the Catskill Mountains, were already 
8 


THE DANA KIDS 


beginning to shiver in the chill winds 
of winter. 

If Mrs. Dana was physically not strong 
and fearful of the future for her little 
ones, she had in her mother an energetic, 
resourceful manager, a woman of marked 
courage and determination, one to face 
the worst in proud silence, and ask neither 
pity nor charity such as is ordinarily 
bestowed upon those whom fortune has 
dealt hardly by, and especially if they 
have seen better days and enjoyed supe- 
rior advantages in time past. It was 
from Grandma Ogden that Trux had 
inherited his good looks, as well as his 
brave spirit and stout heart. 

Years ago it had been said in her native 
town of Norton that lovely Emily Earle 
had married beneath her when she 
accepted John Ogden, and so continued 
to say the gossips of the small hamlet 
of Dayton. He had “run through” his 


9 


THE DANA KIDS 


own not large fortune, also the consider- 
able one his wife had brought him, and 
these same gossips unanimously summed 
it all up in the sententious assertion that 
she was '^too good for such an easy-going, 
indolent man, anyway.” 

Be that as it may, however, Emily 
Earle married John Ogden, and she, 
being one of those old-fashioned sort of 
wives whose marriage vow meant literally 
for better or for worse until death broke 
the bond, made no complaint, although 
she soon realized the mistake she had 
made, and that life for her henceforth 
must be one of patient self-denial and 
unavailing regret. 

Mrs. Dana favored her father in so far 
as she possessed his dependent disposi- 
tion and lack of ability to withstand the 
stress of adversity and consequent help- 
lessness that came with her husband^s 
sudden death. As a child she had been 

lO 


THE DANA KIDS 


her mother’s sole comfort and joy, the 
little daughter for whom she had willingly 
toiled and sacrificed the best years of her 
life, and now when both were widowed 
and actual want stared them in the face, 
it was she who took up the heavy burden 
and began the desperate fight of keeping 
the wolf from the door. She idolized her 
grandchildren, and for them would en- 
dure no end of hardship and privation. 

There was little one could find to do in 
a village like Dayton, the farmers’ wives 
and daughters doing their own work, and 
as for the others, the more well-to-do, 
they mainly did their sewing themselves, 
and the few who didn’t Mrs. Dana and 
her mother both knew by bitter experi- 
ence paid very little, and that most grudg- 
ingly, to have it done. 

The Danas’ nearest neighbors were the 
Barneys. He was the village blacksmith 
and wheelwright, and there were six 


II 


THE DANA KIDS 


young Barneys in all, Joe and Sue being 
the eldest of the half-dozen. Joe was 
fourteen and Sue two years younger. 

In the other direction, a mile across 
lots, but a good three miles by the road, 
was the stony farm and old, low-roofed 
homestead of Silas Craig. He was a 
bachelor of sixty years, and, with the 
exception of his half-sister, Hannah, lived 
alone. He was a big, broad-shouldered 
old fellow, with deep-set, light-blue eyes 
that twinkled in a friendly way whenever 
he met any of the ‘‘Dana kids,’’ for from 
Trux down to Baby Blossom they were all 
prime favorites of his, while the Barneys 
he utterly detested. 

The fast through trains never stopped 
at Dayton. It was too small a place for 
that. The village store was also the post- 
office, and the common center of attrac- 
tion for the surrounding country folk. 
There was a very unpretentious frame 


12 


THE DANA KIDS 


church and school house, and a few 
dwellings scattered along the main street, 
which constituted the village proper. 

The Danas lived at the extreme end 
of this street, in a weather-beaten house, 
sadly in need of paint, but quite private, 
since it stood apart by itself, the owner 
of which had generously allowed the 
widow to remain in it rent free until the 
following April. This was Judge Thornley, 
who had once been State Senator, and was 
still the great man of the village. 

It was the day before Thanksgiving. 
Since early morning the gray November 
sky had been threatening snow, and by 
noon the white, whirling flakes were 
coming down in earnest. With the Danas 
it was pinching poverty indeed. There 
was still enough coal to last a month, but 
of food there was scarcely any, and hun- 
ger began to show itself in the wan cheeks 
and wistful eyes of the children. Trux 


13 


THE DANA KIDS 


and Cale stoutly declared that they did 
not mind a bit, but Winch and Tommy 
honestly confessed that they wanted some- 
thing to eat. 

It was at this time, and in the midst 
of the driving storm, that a rattling farm 
wagon, drawn by a pair of big, iron-gray 
horses, stopped in front of the house, and 
up the snow-whitening path to the shaky 
porch came old Silas Craig. He carried 
a huge basket in one hand and in the 
other a burlap bag containing something 
pretty heavy, by the way he tugged it along. 

Setting his basket on the porch, the 
old man gave a vigorous rap on the door. 
Trux flew to open it. 

“Come in. Uncle Silas,’’ he said, heart- 
ily. “Come right in.” 

Mr. Craig, who was Uncle Silas to 
everybody in Dayton, recovering his bas- 
ket, complied, bringing with him a great 
rush of cold air and a cloud of snow. 


14 


THE DANA KIDS 


“A cold day, Mrs. Ogden,’’ he said, as 
the widow came forward to greet him. 
‘‘Glad to see you, and you, too, Mrs. 
Dana, and the baby — bless her little heart! 
pretty as a pink! And you have a nice 
fire, a great comfort, a great comfort in a 
howling storm like this,” and he shook 
hands warmly with the mother and daugh- 
ter, and patted the baby’s soft cheek in 
the kindliest manner. 

Yet, with all his cheery cordiality, Mr. 
Craig seemed somewhat nervous, and 
did not give either of the women a chance 
to reply before he added, in a tone of 
mingled apology and persuasion, for he 
well knew Mrs. Ogden’s proud nature 
and her aversion to accepting anything 
that savored of charity: 

“Well, now, seeing as it’s Thanks- 
giving, I thought these things might come 
in handy. Hard times, you know, and 
children. It just occurred to me last 


15 


THE DANA KIDS 


night when I was shipping some of my 
turkeys to market that Fd save one out for 
you, and here it is/’ 

He removed the cloth, neatly tucked 
over the top of the basket, as he spoke, and 
disclosed a fine, fat turkey. 

“Oh, Mr. Craig, we cannot — ” began 
Mrs. Dana. 

“Yes, you can,” interrupted the old 
man, hastily. “You can pay me back 
some day. You see,” turning to the old 
grandmother, “I knew John Ogden, he 
wasn’t one to overdo himself working at 
anything harder than fox hunting, or save 
what he come by through others, but that 
don’t matter now. And then Tom Dana! 
I knew him from a boy up — a right good, 
hard-working man, and his kids mustn’t 
go hungry Thanksgiving Day, anyway. 
There’s more things outside. Here, Trux, 
come and help take ’em in.” 

Trux did not need a second invitation, 

i6 


THE DANA KIDS 


you may depend, and complied with a 
haste and willingness that showed the sort 
of pride he possessed‘had not been offended 
in the smallest degree by Mr. Craig’s 
Thanksgiving offerings. There was a 
bag of potatoes, another of apples, a 
whole ham right out of Uncle Silas’ own 
smoke house, a generous bag of flour, and 
two big pumpkin pies, these last “donated” 
by kind Aunt Hannah, with a special mes- 
sage that it was just for old times’ sake to 
“ Emily,” as she affectionately termed Mrs. 
Ogden. 

For a moment the two women could not 
speak for gratitude that filled their hearts 
and brimmed their eyes with tears. 

“You are very good, Silas, to remember 
us at this time,” faltered Mrs. Ogden, 
“good and kind and thoughtful. We do 
need the provisions. For myself I might 
feel too proud to accept of your bounty, 
but the children—” she put her hand 


17 


THE DANA KIDS 


caressingly on Tommy’s curly head as 
he clung to her skirts, wide-eyed and 
hungrily expectant of a ‘‘square meal” 
in sight. “ I can’t see the children starve.” 

“No,” replied Silas, emphatically. 
“That would not be right at all. They 
are fine, promising boys. They will grow 
up and be fine men some day, I am sure — 
honest, useful men.” 

“Yes,” spoke up Trux, with youthful 
ardor, “and we will pay you back. Uncle 
Silas, every cent for all you have given 
us when we are old enough to earn 
money.” 

“That’s so,” endorsed Gale. “Oh, 
we’ll get there all right.” 

“And I’ll help, too,” manfully prof- 
fered Winch, not understanding what it 
was all about, but determined to do what- 
ever the others did. 

Mr. Craig would not wait for further 
thanks, and as he opened the door to 
1 $ 


THE DANA KIDS 


take his departure, Mrs. Ogden said, as 
she laid a tremulous hand on his arm: 

‘‘Please tell Hannah how much I thank 
her, and you, Silas. I think you know 
how I feel. You knew me when I was 
Emily Earle, and what it is for me to 
come to this.’’ 

“Yes, yes,” responded the old man, 
unsteadily. “I understand. I was half 
afraid to offer you anything, but, as you 
say, it is for the children. They call me 
queer old Silas Craig — that is, some folks 
do, odd and close; never giving anything 
to the heathen, or the Haven Hill Home, 
and taking no interest in church work 
generally. This is just my way of help- 
ing people who deserve help. It don’t 
leave no sting. No scar. No rough edges. 
There, there! no, thanks, I must be going. 
Great storm! Snowing like all possessed. 
Good-by, and good luck to you,” and 
the kind old farmer was gone. 


19 


THE DANA KIDS 


And what a change had Mr. Craig’s 
visit brought to the Danas ! 

They would have some supper now, 
and a grand dinner tomorrow. 

Trux and Cale were jubilant, and 
helped put the things away with a self- 
restraint truly commendable, the pump- 
kin pies especially looking very tempting 
in their half-famished state. But the 
near prospect of hot biscuits, boiled pota- 
toes, and broiled ham consoled them for 
the present and gave added zest to the 
anticipated great feast of the morrow. 

‘‘I’m proud, all right,” remarked Trux, 
extenuatingly, “but I get hungry all the 
same.” 

“Yes,” agreed Cale, “that’s so! I’ve 
got my share of the Earle pride, but 
what’s the use keeping it in sight all the 
time for every one to take a look at ? No, 
sir. I go in for a square supper this once, 
any way.” 


20 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘Same here,” said Winch, “Gee! but 
I feel awful slim somehow.” 

And then all three laughed, for Winch 
was about as thin as a boy could be “and 
keep his clothes on,” as Gale said. 

That was a happy evening for the 
“kids,” and they all scampered off to 
bed in high glee, unmindful of the snow 
drifting without, and the howl of the 
winter wind as it swept around the north 
corner of the old house. 


CHAPTER II 


MISS WIGGINS DOES HER DUTY 

The morning dawned cheerless and 
bleak enough. It was still snowing, but 
there were signs of clearing as the day 
advanced, and by ten o’clock the sun 
made a feeble attempt to show his face 
through the frosty haze. 

About noon. Miss Jane Wiggins, a tall, 
sour-visaged spinster, who prided herself 
on being a ‘"church worker,” and given 
to deeds of charity and Christian help 
in dire time of need, honored the Danas 
with a call. She had come, as she 
expressed it in no gentle way, on an 
errand of mercy, such as she deemed 
Mrs. Dana and her mother would snap 
at. In short, to offer the material assist- 
ance she thought the poor family must 
of necessity eagerly accept. 


22 


THE DANA KIDS 


Miss Jane entered like one who felt 
her own superiority, and took the chair 
Mrs. Ogden rather coldly indicated with 
condescending urbanity. 

Miss Wiggins carried a covered basket, 
which she placed on the floor beside her 
with an air that seemed to say, ‘‘Later 
you shall know, and, I hope, be gratefu 
for its contents; but I must speak my 
mind first, and that, too, in plain words.’’ 

“ I have always, whenever circum- 
stances, in my judgment, required it, 
Mrs. Dana, stated facts just as they are,” 
she began, argumentatively. “Now, you 
are poor, very poor — we all know that; 
and there is no denying that something 
effective must be done right away. It 
is quite impossible for you to think of 
bringing up these boys as they should 
be brought up. So I’ve been talking 
with Squire Neff about it. He is Over- 
seer of the Poor, you know, and also 


23 


THE DANA KIDS 


takes an active interest in the Haven Hill 
Home for destitute children, and he thinks 
just as I do, that the best thing for you to 
do is to put the boys in the Home. Tommy 
is rather young, but Tm sure I can manage 
that.’’ This with a most self-important 
nod in the direction of that scared and 
wondering youngster, who had edged 
behind Winch in vague alarm of some 
impending danger, to himself especially. 

‘‘Yes, I’m confident I can manage 
that little matter,” with another personal 
nod at Tommy, meant to be reassuring 
and affable, for poor Tommy was visibly 
trembling now. “The Haven Hill Home 
is exactly the place for them, where they 
will have proper Christian training. Boys 
are hard to manage. They need restraint, 
to be early taught obedience and the 
authority of a master. Squire Neff thinks 
the same, and he will come for them in a 
day or two.” 


24 


THE DANA KIDS 


Not a word said grandma to all this, but 
the rising color in her cheeks and the gleam 
in her eyes boded no ready acquiescence 
in Miss Jane’s humiliating proposition. 

“Yes,” pursued Miss Jane, suavely. 
“They will have right training at the 
Home. The rules are very strict; so is 
the discipline. The boys are bound out 
at twelve years of age. That will be in 
less than a year for you, Trux. You will 
be taught some useful trade, or perhaps 
it will be work on a farm. You will get 
only your board and clothes until you 
are twenty-one. Until that time the Home 
reserves its right to your wages, whatever 
they may be. Nothing could be more 
fair, I am sure.” 

Mrs. Dana stared aghast at this cool 
disposal of her young sons, her bright, 
energetic, brave-hearted boys, whom she 
so devotedly loved and was so proud of, 
despite her poverty! 


25 


THE DANA KIDS 


Tommy clutched Winch’s leg more 
tightly, if that were possible. Trux gritted 
his teeth and doubled his fists in silent 
wrath, but was thoughtful enough to 
quietly shut the kitchen door, that Miss 
Jane might not see the turkey on the 
table, with its long neck hanging over 
the edge, and very stiff of legs and plump 
of breast. Cale grinned malevolently 
behind Miss Jane’s back and made a 
furtive motion to kick the basket, in this 
wise expressing his contempt for whatever 
it might contain of that worthy spinster’s 

‘‘You see,” went on Miss Wiggins, 
serenely, apparently not noticing the omi- 
nous silence of her listeners, “that it is a 
chance in a thousand. In the meanwhile, 
however, I have brought you something 
a little more substantial than advice, for 
I am always practical in my charitable 
work, as in everything else, and children 

26 


THE DANA KIDS 


must eat, I know that.” And she took 
up the basket with impressive slowness, 
pushed aside the cover and disclosed the 
contents to the grimly attentive onlookers. 
A paper bag containing about two quarts 
of corn meal and a few withered and 
sprouty-looking potatoes. 

“The corn meal is just a little sour,” 
she frankly admitted, “and the potatoes 
a trifle touched by the frost, but I guess 
you can eat them if you are very hungry, 
as I suppose you must be.” 

Trux looked at Cale, and they both 
slid out the back door, ran around the 
corner of the house, and began to shovel 
the snow from the path leading to the gate. 

“Well, now, if she ain’t the limit!” 
said Trux, indignantly. “I couldn’t stand 
it another minute. And grandma — did 
you see how she looked at her, Cale ? I 
wouldn’t accept anything Jane Wiggins 
brought us if I starved to death.” 


27 


THE DANA KIDS 


“Nor I,” replied Cale, loyally. “I’d 
like to see myself going to the Haven Hill 
Home.” And impelled by their boyish 
anger at such a debasing disposal of them- 
selves, they made the snow fly faster than 
ever. 

Meanwhile, Miss Jane kept on in 
serene self-assurance. 

“Of course, you must live, and as 
soon as Squire Neff has put the boys in 
the Home, we will see what can be done 
for the rest of you. Being one of the 
Overseers of the Poor, he may — ” 

“That will do. Miss Wiggins,” inter- 
rupted grandma, with stern peremptori- 
ness. “That is quite enough. My 
grandsons are not going to a Home of 
any sort, nor yet to the poor house. We 
do not care for what you have brought. 
We do not need it.” 

“Well, I never!” ejaculated Miss 
Jane. “Such ingratitude! such, I may 

28 


THE DANA KIDS 


say, impudence! Tve done my duty, 

anyway.” 

“So have I,” replied the old grand- 
mother, with infinite dignity. “Good 
morning. Miss Jane. You certainly can 
have no more to say, and I surely have 
not. Please go. The boys stay with 
me and their mother.” 

Miss Jane was dumb with rage and 
astonishment at this summary ending 
of her benevolent visit. Actually dis- 
missed, told to go right to her face. 

Miss Jane snatched up her basket 
in high displeasure, opened the door 
with a vicious jerk, and flounced out, 
her ancient plush cape and rusty black 
hat fairly quivering with rage, only to 
confront Trux and Cale industriously 
shovelling the snow, one great shovelful 
by “accident” taking her squarely in the 
back as she stepped from the porch into 
the path. 


29 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘Oh, you rude, badly brought up 
boys!’’ she angrily exclaimed, “you did 
that on purpose.” She had caught the 
twinkle in Trux’s eyes and felt sure it 
was no accident. “You may go hungry 
for all I care, and I’d brought you this 
food to keep you from starving.” 

“Thank you,” replied Trux, “but we 
don’t eat sour corn meal and frozen 
potatoes. We haven’t come to that yet. 
Miss Jane.” 

“But you will,” she snapped. “Squire 
Neff shall hear of this, and he will take 
you to the Haven Hill Home before you 
are one week older. Mark my words I” 

“Not if I see him first, he won’t,” said 
Trux, defiantly, and he returned to his 
shovelling, with redoubled energy, while 
Miss Jane stalked majestically homeward, 
“mad clear through,” as the boys termed 
her offended state of mind. 

“She don’t know about the turkey,” 


30 


THE DANA KIDS 


remarked Cale, ‘‘or the good breakfast 
we had this morning.” 

“And the good dinner we are going to 
have today, either,” laughed Trux. “ I sup- 
pose grandma would say it was not right, 
but I just hate Jane Wiggins. She scared 
mother awfully, and Winch and Tommy 
looked ready to cry, but grandma stood 
her ground, I tell you. I wonder what 
she said to her at the last.? Something 
that meddlesome maiden lady will never 
forget, ril bet. And what a tale she will 
have to tell Squire Neff!” 

“She won’t be particular about telling 
the truth either when it comes to making 
out a good showing for herself,” said 
Cale. ‘‘Jane Wiggins is the meanest 
person I know next to Joe Barney and 
his sister Sue. And if there don’t 
come Joe now!” concluded Cale, dis- 
gustedly. 

“That’s so!” said Trux, turning 
31 


THE DANA KIDS 


quickly and bestowing anything but a 
friendly look on the boy slowly approach- 
ing the gate, which the irate Jane had 
failed to shut when she passed out a few 
moments before. ‘‘Don’t you mind, 
Cale, I’m good fot Joe every time.” And 
Trux immediately made ready for battle, 
seeing that Joe was making snowballs 
as he came along. Cale, meanwhile, 
valiantly stood guard with his shovel, 
at the same time keeping a watchful eye 
on the belligerent Joe as the latter 
leisurely advanced to the attack. 

“Hello!” jeered the hated Joe, as he 
neared the gate and sent a “soaker” 
whizzing past Gale’s head; “got yer 
Thanksgivin’ turkey yet.?” 

“Yes,” replied Trux, as he fired a hard 
one that took Joe under the ear. “A 
big turkey, too; weighs ten pounds.” 

Joe, of course, did not believe a word 
of it, and continued derisively: 


32 


THE DANA KIDS 


“And pumpkin pie and cranberries and 
plum puddin’/’ 

“Correct,” affirmed Trux. “The 
Dana kids are living high just about this 
time.” And then with a parting shot the 
boys scampered into the house, dodging 
Joe’s last snowball as it smashed against 
the door. 


33 


CHAPTER III 


THE LADY AND THE SILVER DOLLAR 

The Danas managed to live and put on 
a brave front until the bitter cold of Decem- 
ber came, followed by storm after storm, 
making the roads almost impassable and 
piling the drifts in many places ten feet 
high. Trux had earned a little by run- 
ning errands and doing small jobs around 
the railroad station. 

It was the middle of December when 
there came a tremendous snow storm. 
The through Albany express was stalled 
at Dayton, and the passengers were forced 
to seek shelter at the small hotel near the 
station — the only one the village boasted. 

Trux was at the station on the lookout 
to be of service and thereby earn a dime 
when the belated train, aided by a power- 
ful snow plough, plunged into a huge 


34 


THE DANA KIDS 


drift some distance before reaching the 
wind-swept platform and came to a dead 
stop. Among the passengers who 
alighted and began to try to make their 
way to the dreary little waiting room 
was a lady, richly clad in costly furs, 
and carrying a not very large satchel. 

Trux was quick to offer his assistance, 
and with a bright smile the lady accepted, 
glad enough to avail herself of his help 
in such a storm as was then raging. 
When he had escorted her to the hotel 
and seen her established in the best room 
the house afforded, the lady turned and 
looked at Trux with kindly interest. 
He was a remarkably attractive boy, 
even in his shabby, out-grown clothes. 
His eyes were especially fine, of a deep, 
gray-blue, with long, dark lashes and 
straight, dark brows that gave a singu- 
larly frank and winning expression to 
his resolute young face. His manners 
35 


THE DANA KIDS 


were naturally refined, with a certain 
proud carriage of his well-formed head 
that a person of discernment could not 
fail to notice as being of the sort that 
denoted an indomitable will to meet 
and overcome whatever obstacles for- 
tune might have in store for him, as well 
as a kind of “don’t tread on me” spirit 
that had scorned Miss Jane and her sour 
corn meal so imperiously. 

“What is your name.?” asked the lady, 
as she laid aside her handsome sable coat 
and hat. 

“James Truxton Dana,” replied the 
boy. 

“Truxton,” she said, with a little start 
of surprise. “That is a rather uncom- 
mon name, is it not .?” 

“Yes. It is the name of someone my 
grandmother knew when she was a girl.” 

“Then you have a grandmother; and 
your father?” 

36 ' 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘My father is dead,” and Trux spoke 
somewhat sadly. “ But my mother is 
living. There are five of us Dana kids. 
Four boys. Fm the eldest. Blossom 
is the baby. She’s a girl and only ten 
months old. Her name is Elsie, but we 
call her Blossom because she is so white 
and pink and sweet.” 

The lady smiled approvingly, and laid 
a white, jewelled hand on the boy’s brown 
hair. 

“I am sure you are all good boys,” 
she said. “And love the little baby sis- 
ter dearly 

“Yes, we do,” replied Trux, earnestly, 
“and mother and grandma, too.” 

“Sometime I hope we shall meet 
again,” continued the lady. “And I 
must not forget the name — ^James Trux- 
ton Dana! And you are the man of the 
family, I suppose.?” 

“I do what I can,” answered Trux 


37 


THE DANA KIDS 


gravely. earn a little. This is a small 
place, and there is not much a boy of my 
age can get to do.’’ 

‘‘You have been of great assistance 
to me this stormy night, for I see it is now 
quite dark,” assured the lady, “so take 
this and my thanks besides,” and she 
put a silver dollar in his hand. 

“Oh, that is too much,” protested 
Trux. “A dime is the most I ever get.” 

“ But this is an unusual service,” 
replied the lady, “and you carried my 
satchel quite a distance. How long are 
we likely to be detained here.^” 

“Not longer than tomorrow morning, 
I think,” said Trux. “They get the 
through trains out pretty quick. But 
it is storming hard and drifting badly, 
so it may take until afternoon.” 

“Then all one can do is to be patient 
and make the best of it,” she said. 
“Good night, my dear boy. I am very 
38 


THE DANA KIDS 


glad to have met you. So you see, 
the delay has not been altogether vexa- 
tious.” 

‘‘Good night,” replied Trux simply, 
“and thank you again for what you have 
given me.” 

Trux hurried home through the blind- 
ing storm, shivering but happy, and 
rushed into the kitchen, where Mrs. 
Dana was getting their scant supper of 
oatmeal, in great excitement. 

“See what I have earned, mother!” 
he exclaimed, eagerly exhibiting the silver 
dollar. “Train was all snowed up — the 
steam pipes frozen solid, and the passen- 
gers had to lay over at the station until 
the train crew can open the road again. 
A lady gave me this just to carry her 
satchel and help her to the hotel. I said 
it was too much, but she made me take 
it. She was such a handsome lady, and 
dressed so fine in soft, warm furs, and 


39 


THE DANA KIDS 


had such a sweet voice. I never before 
saw such a charming lady.’’ 

‘‘You had better not let Jane Wiggins 
hear you say that,” broke in Cale; “she 
thinks herself perfection.” 

“Jane Wiggins,” sniffed Trux con- 
temptuously. “I’d like to see her give 
anyone a dollar if they worked for her a 
week.” 


40 


CHAPTER IV 


A LITTLE COMFORTER 

The Christmas holidays were now fast 
approaching, but they brought no cheer 
to the Danas. 

Gaunt-visaged want was their daily 
guest, and how to exist longer without 
asking charity of the township seemed 
impossible, but from this last resort both 
Mrs. Ogden and her daughter shrank 
with unspeakable horror. Ever before 
the children loomed the spectre of the 
‘‘Home,’’ of which poor Winch and little 
Tommy especially had conceived a posi- 
tive terror, and the sight of Jane Wiggins 
or ’Squire Neff would send them tearing 
into the house in a frenzy of fear, as if 
pursued by some dreadful ogre. 

This twenty-third day of December 
seemed to have brought with it the climax 


41 


THE DANA KIDS 


of their distress. Mother and daughter 
sat alone in the dimly fire-lighted room 
that served the double purpose of dining 
and sitting room. The children were in 
bed, forgetful, for a time at least, of their 
hunger and the dismal prospect of the 
morrow. 

“I must let them go,’’ said Mrs. Dana, 
despairingly. “I cannot see them starve.” 
Great tears filled her eyes and fell on the 
flaxen curls of the baby asleep in her 
arms. How fair and rosy she was. How 
unconscious of all their misery and help- 
lessness. 

‘‘ Let us hope a little while longer,” 
replied Mrs. Ogden. ‘‘Have we not the 
promise that He will not forsake the 
widow and the orphan She wiped 
away her own tears as she spoke, with a 
trembling, toil-roughened hand. Neither 
heard the light sound of bare feet on the 
cold, narrow stairs until the chamber 


42 


THE DANA KIDS 


door softly opened and there stood Trux 
in his outgrown nightgown, very short as 
to wrists and ankles, but above it were 
the brave, beautiful eyes and broad, 
white brow of little Trux. 

“Don’t cry, grandma,” he said in a 
comforting tone of voice. ‘‘We don’t 
mind. I — ^we are used to being hungry, 
but you—oh, I can’t bear to see you cry — 
you and mother! Don’t, please don’t!” 
And he tenderly kissed the tears from 
her careworn cheeks, patting and smooth- 
ing her soft, gray hair with a gentle, wan- 
dering touch meant to be, in his boyish 
way, both encouraging and protecting. 
“I know something good will come our 
way soon,” he continued brightly. “I 
may earn a little tomorrow. I’ll go see 
Uncle Silas. I’m not ashamed to ask 
him for help. He is not like the others. 
He doesn’t make you feel as if you were 
an undeserving pauper when he does a 


43 


THE DANA KIDS 


kind act. Oh, Fm sure we’ll pull through 
somehow, all right.” 

‘‘Dear child,” whispered grandma, 
holding close to her the thinly clad, poorly 
nourished little form, “when you are so 
brave and hopeful, how can we despair? 
Run back to bed, dear. We will hope 
for better fortune yet a little while.” She 
kissed him in a lingering, prayerful sort 
of way, and Trux vanished up the steep 
stair, leaving behind him in the hearts 
of mother and grandmother a warmth 
and brightness that no winter’s cold could 
chill and no adverse fate vanquish. 

The next morning Trux was early at 
the station in hopes of earning a nickel or 
two. The way train was nearly due as 
Judge Thornley drove up in his smart 
turnout — the high-stepping bays, buff and 
black sleigh, bells, and bear robes were in 
fact the pride and admiration of Dayton. 

Seeing Trux, he motioned the boy to 


44 


THE DANA KIDS 


take his suitcase while he went to pur- 
chase his ticket. 

Elated at such good fortune, Trux 
seized the heavy suitcase with an energy 
and promptness that told how glad he 
was to be of use. The stout-hearted 
little fellow’s wan face mutely spoke of 
scant fare for many days, and maybe the 
great man of the village noticed it. At 
any rate, the judge, as he recovered his 
suitcase, said, reflectively: 

‘‘Let me see, this is Christmas time?” 

He twisted a bank bill from the change 
pocket of his expensive fur-lined over- 
coat and carelessly tossed it to the boy. 
Trux could hardly believe his eyes. 

“Why, sir, it is five dollars! You did 
not intend — ” 

“Yes, that is all right,” interrupted 
the judge, and with a wave of his hand 
and “a merry Christmat to you,” boarded 
the train as it drew up to the platform. 


45 


THE DANA KIDS 


and the next moment was on his way to 
Albany. 

Trux fairly flew home. All a-tremble 
from his hard run and the good news he 
had to tell, he burst in on the startled 
family like a young hurricane. 

'‘I told you, mother — grandma!’’ he 
cried, ‘‘that we would not starve yet 
awhile. Judge Thornley gave me five 
dollars — not for what I did, but because 
it is Christmas time. Here it is. A whole 
five dollars! Oh, wasn’t it kind of Judge 
Thornley 

“ Kind, indeed,” warmly replied his 
mother, who was almost as much excited 
as Trux himself. 

“And you bet we will have a swell 
spread this once, anyway,” said Cale. 
“The judge is a brick, and if he is alive 
when I am twenty-one, and wants to be 
President of these United States of North 
America, he can have my vote.” 

46 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘And mine, too,’’ chimed in Winch, 
not knowing in the least what it was Cale 
so generously promised in the distant 
future, but it sounded fine and must be 
the right thing to do. 

So revived were the spirits of the 
“kids” by reason of the hot, appetizing 
stew that mainly comprised their dinner, 
that the four boys joyously betook them- 
selves to the hill across the road, and 
with a sled laboriously improvised out of 
a broken pine board and a couple of old 
barrel staves, coasted in great glee, as 
merry as could be until Sue Barney came 
along. Sue’s disposition was no more 
pleasing than her looks. She had a 
turn-up nose, sandy hair, and pale blue 
eyes, “like a fish,” Cale said, and was 
altogether a disagreeable kind of young 
person, as the Dana boys knew only too 
well. The moment she caught sight of 
them, the began to be “mean” as usual. 


47 


THE DANA KIDS 


“Oh see what a nice sled you’ve got! 
Just an old board and barrel staves for 
runners! And patched knees and 
elbows, and you won’t have any Christ- 
mas tree or nothing, and you won’t have 
no Santa Claus, ’cause you’re so poor. 
Joe says so.” 

At this direful prospect Tommy began 
to cry and Winch’s lips to quiver, the sight 
of which instantly aroused Trux’s anger. 

“See here. Sue Barney, you just stop 
that. If you were a boy I’d give you a 
good licking, and I’ll baste Joe for it, 
anyway. He is just as mean as you are.” 

“You can’t, you can’t,” retorted Sue, 
“cause Joe’s bigger’n you, and he’s awful 
strong.” 

“I don’t care if he is, I can lick him,” 
said Trux. “We will have a Christmas 
tree, all right, don’t you worry, and if you 
are the sort Santa Claus likes we don’t 
wish to see him.” 


48 


THE DANA KIDS 


“And a turkey,” sneered Sue; “and 
you’re so rich you will have asparagus 
and spinnach and celery, like grand folks 
do ?” 

“Yes, Miss Smarty. And cauliflower, 
and — and — ” 

“ Beefsteak and mushrooms,” added 
Cale at a venture, coming to the aid of 
his brother, and having a dim idea that 
mushrooms were costly viands, possible 
only for millionaires to afford. 

“I just guess you ain’t had much to 
eat for quite a spell. You all look awfully 
thin. My, my!” continued Sue, relent- 
lessly. 

“Just guess all you like. Miss Hate- 
ful,” was the quick retort. “Who cares 
what you guess 

Sue gave her limp felt hat, with its 
broken “chicken wing,” a resentful jerk, 
and returned to the charge with great 
asperity. 


D 


49 


THE DANA KIDS 


like you to remember, Trux 
Dana, that my name is Susan Maria 
Barney. You are just too — too impolite 
for anything, so there!” 

“Am I? Well, who on earth could 
be polite to you. Miss Susan Mar-r-ria 
Barney 

This fearfully yowled utterance of 
her name met with instant retaliation. 
Sue fired her last and heaviest gun. 

“And you’re all got to go to the Haven 
Hill Home. Jane Wiggins says so, and 
so does ’Squire Neff.” 

This was more than the boys would 
stand in the war of words. A fusilade 
of snowballs put Sue to flight, but as she 
turned and fled she called back over her 
shoulder: 

“’Squire Neff is cornin’ for you tomor- 
row, and they will lock you up in a dark, 
cold room every night, where there is rats 
and spiders and all sorts of spooky things.” 

50 


THE DANA KIDS 


Tommy set up a doleful howl at this, 
and Winch joined in a mournful whim- 
per. But Trux told them not to be afraid. 
It was just Sue Barney’s ugly way. 

“We will have a Christmas tree, all 
right, and things on it, too,” he assured 
his little brothers. “And Santa Claus, 
if it is not too stormy, will come, I know.” 

Cale looked his doubts as to both tree 
and Santa. But Trux knew what he was 
talking about. 

“We will have the tree. So you needn’t 
grin, Cale, as if you didn’t believe it. I 
asked Uncle Silas, and he said I might 
have one of the little cedars that grow 
on the side hill, back of the west pasture 
lot. And he is going to give us some 
popcorn ears, and we will put them 
on the tree, and some — some — ” Trux 
paused because there wasn’t anything 
but popcorn in sight just then, and he 
was too truthful to “make up” a story, 
SI 


THE DANA KIDS 


although his little brother’s pitiful tears 
went to his heart. ‘‘Well, something else 
real nice, I guess,” he finished. 

“Yes, nice cold snowballs, and long, 
choice icicles,” added Cale, ironically. 
“We’ll fare high on faith this Christmas, 
sure.” 

“Oh, you hush!” admonished Trux, 
severely. “That Sue Barney has spoiled 
all our fun. Let’s go home. Come on, 
Tommy.” 

Dragging the clumsy “sled” that had 
been the object of Sue’s keen ridicule, 
they started homeward, the good humor 
of the older boys restored, and Winch 
and Tommy confident that in their big 
brother they had a champion to be justly 
proud of. 


52 


CHAPTER V 


UNCLE SILAS FORGETS SOMETHING 

True to his word, the next morning 
Cale and Trux tramped across the snowy 
fields to the stony hillside where grew a 
number of small cedars. Hacking down 
one that they thought would be ‘‘just 
right/’ they set out for home in triumph, 
dragging their prize with much hard 
breathing and violent tugs, through drifts 
and over fences, their happy laughter, as 
one difficulty after another was met and 
overcome, echoing pleasantly through the 
wintry air. 

Winch and Tommy met them at the 
door with shouts of delight, and there 
was a great time getting the tree properly 
“planted” in the south window, which 
faced the road and could be easily seen 
by anyone passing the house. The plant- 
53 


THE DANA KIDS 


ing was finally successfully accomplished 
by aid of an old bucket, some stout sticks, 
and a hammer. It was a rather scraggy 
tree, but it was green and fresh-looking, 
and gave forth a delicious spicy fragrance, 
highly suggestive of Christmas cheer and 
joyou^ family gatherings. 

Winch and Tommy danced around it 
in wild enthusiasm. Grandma declared 
it was beautiful, even if there was nothing 
at all to put on it, and Mrs. Dana said 
the sight of it made her feel as if happier 
days were in store for them, and the worst 
of their troubles over. 

It was Trux who had thought of it. 
The little, scrubby cedar was a great 
success. 

It was a dull, cloudy morning, with 
every indication of another storm brew- 
ing, and before one o’clock the snow 
was coming down with a steady persist- 
ence that gave promise of becoming a 
54 


THE DANA KIDS 


regular old ‘‘nor’easter/’ It was almost 
dark and the snow was driving against 
the window panes in spiteful gusts, when 
there came the sound of sleigh bells with- 
out, and Uncle Silas Craig, muffled to 
the eyes, drove up to the gate. He had 
an immense parcel done up in strong 
brown paper in one blue-mittened hand, 
and in the other the same large basket 
that had accompanied him on a previous 
memorable visit. The sudden silence of 
the big, old-fashioned sleigh bells brought 
Trux to the door in an instant. He 
opened it with youthful alacrity before 
the old man had time to stamp the snow 
from his huge “arctics,’’ and drew him 
with affectionate force, parcel, basket, 
and all, into the room. 

“Oh, Uncle Silas, I am so glad you 
came!” he said. “You can see our tree 
now. We set it up, Cale and I; isn’t it 
great 1” 


55 


THE DANA KIDS 


The old man laughed as he looked at 
the scrubby cedar and nodded approval. 
Then he set down his burdens and shook 
the snow from his fur cap and shaggy 
great coat with marked deliberation. His 
grizzled beard and long, gray locks gave 
him the appearance of a veritable Santa 
Claus. Tommy and Winch really grew 
hysterical at the sight. 

‘‘It is Santa!” they cried; “a truly 
Santa, just like we saw in the picture 
book!” 

Uncle Silas was vastly pleased. 

“Well, now, you didn’t think I was 
going to forget you this time of Christmas 
goodwill to all mankind, did you?” he 
replied. “I got a little present for you 
kids when I was at Lakeview last week,” 
and as he spoke he deftly removed the 
heavy brown wrapping paper from the 
object in question, and there was a sled — 
a perfect beauty, painted red, and with 
56 


THE DANA KIDS 


the picture of a reindeer in full gallop on 
the seat. The boys fairly screamed with 
delight, and while they were eagerly 
admiring it, and guessing how fast it 
could go — fast enough, sure, to ‘‘beat 
Joe Barney’s old homemade thing all to 
nothing,” Uncle Silas uncovered the con- 
tents of the big basket. A fine turkey, 
cranberries, rosy apples, a delicious-looking 
mince pie, and many other good things 
that kind Aunt Hannah had sent with best 
wishes and carefully prepared with her 
own hands. 

Miss Jane Wiggins and her like, 
remembering that their sort of charity 
had been politely but firmly declined, 
gave them no thought, but Uncle Silas 
and Aunt Hannah were diflFerent, and 
knew how to do a generous act without 
wounding the pride or heart of the recip- 
ient of their largess. 

Trux declared the turkey must go on 


57 


THE DANA KIDS 


the Christmas tree then and there. And 
it did. Fastened securely by its elon- 
gated neck and its white breast shaded 
by the deep green leaves of the cedar, it 
“was fine,” although a rather unique 
adornment of a Christmas tree. “With 
the apples and the strings of popcorn, it 
would be all right,” Cale averred. 

Uncle Silas enjoyed the fun and was 
as much of a boy as any of them, help- 
ing to “trim” the tree, and laughing 
heartily to see Tommy and Winch hop 
around it in excited glee at the wonder- 
fully splendid things that were happen- 
ing after their long siege of absolute depri- 
vation of even the scantiest necessities of 
life. 

It was now quite dark, and Silas said 
he must go. Hannah wouldn’t know 
what had become of him if he stayed any 
longer. And then she would begin to 
worry, of course. 


58 


THE DANA KIDS 


Grandma wiped away a few grateful 
tears as she took his hand at parting. 

“God bless you, Silas!’’ she said, fer- 
vently. “I can say no more than that.” 

“ I — ^we do not know how to thank 
you,” added Mrs. Dana. “We have no 
words in which to tell you how deeply 
we feel and appreciate your kindness.” 
Her voice faltered, speech failed her, but 
the old man understood. 

Baby Blossom reached up and buried 
her pink fingers in his long whiskers, with 
a little gurgling laugh of friendly notice. 

“Bless the baby,” he said softly, under 
his breath. “The dear, pretty little one! 
She’ll be old enough to have a tree of her 
own next year.” 

Silas put on his great coat, pulled his 
somewhat moth-eaten fur cap over his 
ears and turned to go. The scent of the 
Christmas cedar filled the room, and he 
felt strangely happy and at peace with 
59 


THE DANA KIDS 


himself and all the world — envious, too, 
somehow, of these fine boys. The 
younger children stood back in a kind 
of questioning awe, for they were vaguely 
conscious that if anyone spoke it would 
be with a burst of tears. So the old man 
passed out into the storm and the night 
with a glow at his heart that no cold could 
chill and no storm lessen. But his foot had 
not yet left the weather-beaten porch when 
Trux stood beside him, bare-headed, the 
snow-laden wind tossing his dark hair and 
the white flakes falling all about him. 

‘‘You have forgotten something. Uncle 
Silas,’’ he said, in a low, remindful tone. 
“And I couldn’t let you go without it.” 

The old man turned quickly. 

“ What is it, son 

‘‘Why, this.” 

Trux reached up, drew the old man’s 
head down to his, and kissed his wrinkled 
cheek. 


6o 


THE DANA KIDS 


Uncle Silas’ arms closed around the 
boy’s slight form in an answering hug, 
and he felt a warm moisture on Trux’s 
uplifted face that was not caused by the 
falling snow. The old man also felt his 
own dim eyes filling, and there was a 
tremulous quiver in his voice when he 
said: 

“The Lord bless and keep you, Trux, 
and may you live to be a comfort and 
help to the mother and grandmother, a 
guide and example for the little ones, 
and all men the better for knowing you.” 
Then he started down the almost snow- 
obliterated path to the gate, got into his 
high bob-sleigh, gave the impatient horses 
their head, and was gone. Trux watched 
him out of sight, the big bells making 
merry music in the white distance. 

“A good old man,” he said to himself. 
“The very best man I know. I love 
him.” 

6i 


THE DANA KIDS 


And old Silas Craig said, as he drew 
his clumsy blue yarn mitten across his 
eyes to clear his vision: 

‘‘A fine boy that, a fine boy! His 
mother, to my thinking, is the richest 
woman in Dayton this Christmas eve/’ 


62 


CHAPTER VI 


MYSTERIOUS K. KRINGLE 

It had been a day of unexpected relief 
from pressing needs and consequent light- 
ness of heart, but the Danas were to have 
yet another surprise, and one infinitely 
more amazing, before it was quite over. 

The younger children were in bed and 
fast asleep, and Trux and Cale had just 
started up the stairs to join them, when 
there was again heard the sound of sleigh 
bells abruptly stopping at the gate, then 
a voice saying, ‘‘Whoa, whoa, boys, 
whoa!” in a soothing tone, and Eph- 
raim Sommers, the owner of the big 
dairy farm four miles beyond Dayton, 
clambered out of the long double sleigh, 
came hurriedly up to the house, and gave 
a loud rap on the door. 

It was opened by Mrs. Dana, who was 
63 


THE DANA KIDS 


not a little startled by *a call at that late 
hour in the evening and in such inclement 
weather. 

Mr. Sommers at once, and in few words, 
stated the nature of his business. 

The man in charge of the express office 
at the station had informed him there 
was a large box for the Danas — came an 
hour before — and he thought, as it was 
Christmas eve, they might like to have it. 

‘^So I brought it along,’’ explained 
Ephraim, in neighborly fashion. ^‘It’s 
out in the sleigh. It’s of good size and 
pretty heavy, but I guess I can manage it.” 

In great wonderment Mrs. Dana asked 
if he was sure it was for them. Was 
there not some mistake? 

‘‘No. Marked plain as print, ‘For the 
Dana kids.’ But I must hurry; roads 
fast drifting full, and I’ve got some ways 
to go yet.” And out he went to fetch in 
the box. 


64 


THE DANA KIDS 


After much tugging and pulling, and 
turning end over end through the deep 
snow, he succeeded in getting the heavy 
box into the house. 

“Who could have sent it?’’ asked 
mother and daughter in a breath. 
Ephraim could not think of anyone at 
all likely to be so generous in that not 
overly rich locality. Mrs. Dana and her 
mother thanked him fervently for his 
trouble, but he assured them it was no 
trouble at all — glad he was able to do 
them a kind turn. Then, with a smiling 
glance at the cedar dimly discernible in 
the shaded lamp light, the suspended 
turkey, all ready for the oven, faintly 
outlined amid the sheltering leaves, Eph- 
raim wished them good-night and a merry 
Christmas, and hastened away intent 
upon getting home before the roads 
were really impassable. 

The sound of the sleigh bells had 

E 65 


THE DANA KIDS 


brought Trux and Cale to a sudden halt 
when half-way up the stairs. A tiptoed 
return and a cautious peep through the 
partly open chamber door revealed Eph- 
raim in the act of depositing the box in 
the middle of the floor. 

The moment he was gone out bounded 
the boys, wild with curiosity and eager to 
know all about it. 

It was Trux who first found his voice. 

“It must be for us,’’ he said. “We 
are the only Dana kids in this town. 
Oh, I say, Cale, where is the hammer 
and the hatchet ? We’ll soon see what 
is inside.” 

Mrs. Dana was too bewildered to 
object, and grandma looked quite dazed, 
too. It was such a big box and packed 
full, for it was so heavy. Trux ended 
up what he called the top, because that 
was marked, and attacked it with the 
hatchet in no uncertain manner. The 


66 


THE DANA KIDS 


top was soon pried ofF, the wire nails 
giving way grudgingly, but Trux, though 
slight of form, was strong, and Cale 
helped, and speedily the contents were 
disclosed. 

What a shout went up from Cale and 
Trux! 

Right on top there was a letter directed, 
‘‘For the Dana kids,’’ 
and it enclosed twenty five-dollar bills. 

“Wishing you all a merry Christmas, 
“K. Kringle.” 

That was all. 

“ K. stands for Kris, I know,” said 
Trux. “But just look at the things, 
grandma.” 

Things, indeed! There were toys of 
all sorts, puzzles, games, picture books. 
A big plum cake, candy, nuts, and oranges. 
New suits for every “kid” — one for best, 

^ 67 


THE DANA KIDS 


and an extra for every day — overcoats for 
Trux and Cale, and cute little ones for 
Winch and Tommy. Warm flannels, 
mittens, cap§, comforters — something for 
everyone from grandma down to baby 
Blossom. 

‘‘Well, this beats mef’ said Cale, catch- 
ing his breath in sheer astonishment. 
“ It’s away beyond anything I thought 
could ever happen to us in the good for- 
tune line.” 

“We will have a tree now that will 
make Winch and Tommy open their 
eyes in the morning, and we will have a 
dinner, too, that will make us forget the 
many we have gone without for this long 
time,” replied Trux. 

“I cannot imagine who could have sent 
it,” perplexedly questioned Mrs. Dana, not 
yet recovered from her mystification. 

“Maybe it was Jane Wiggins,” ironi- 
cally suggested Cale. 

68 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘Or ’Squire Neff*!” added Trux. 

“Maybe it is the joint offering of Joe 
Barney and his dear sister Sue,” said Cale. 

“They most likely have thought better 
of sending us to the Haven Hill Home, 
and are doing the charity act in this fine 
style,” laughed Trux. 

“Seriously,” interposed grandma, 
thoughtfully, “I would like to know. 
Not Judge Thornley. It is not like him. 
He may reward you liberally for a small 
service, as he did the other day, but not 
trouble himself to go out of his way to 
help a poor family, unless he had some 
special purpose for doing so. No, it was 
not he, nor any one in the village whom I 
know.” 

“I hope we shall know some time,” 
replied Trux; “but all we can do as it is 
now is to be thankful and enjoy all the 
good things this blessed K. Kringle has 
sent us.” 


69 


THE DANA KIDS 


Such a time as they had emptying the 
big box! Trux and Cale tried on their 
new suits and marched around the room, 
proud as peacocks. It was nearly mid- 
night before they could be induced to go 
to bed, and they were up and down stairs 
again as soon as it was fairly light. 

Winch and Tommy could hardly 
believe their eyes when they saw the tree. 
Such a transformation over night! Did 
Santa come after they were asleep, and 
how did he get in and they not hear him .? 
And now wouldn’t they have a grand 
chance to crow over Joe and Sue! 

The morning dawned clear and cold, 
but the nipping, frosty air did not deter 
Joe and Sue from floundering through 
the deep snow by eleven o’clock to show 
the young Danas their Christmas goodies 
— mostly stick candy and sour balls — 
and brag of the few cheap presents they 
had received. When they caught sight 
70 


THE DANA KIDS 


of the tree, however, they were struck 
dumb with surprise and envy, and the 
scraggy cedar was indeed resplendent with 
its burden of beautiful things, many of 
which the Barneys had never before seen, 
so uncommon and costly were they. 

Why — ^why, where did you get all 
that.?’’ gasped Joe. thought you was 
foolin’ — ^just to talk big.” 

‘‘I never talk big,” disclaimed Trux. 
‘‘It was all true. The turkey is roasting 
now, and there is the tree — ^you can see 
for yourself, and that is not half, either.” 

Grandma and Mrs. Dana were in the 
kitchen preparing the all-important din- 
ner, and the children had the room to 
themselves, otherwise they might not have 
been so free in their remarks. 

“You must have a rich aunt, or some- 
thing,” ventured Sue. “Awful rich!” 

“We have,” said Trux, his handsome 
eyes dancing, “and a rich uncle,” 

71 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘And a fairy godmother,” put in Cale. 
“You don’t know, Sue Barney, what really 
swell people we are.” 

“And you won’t have to go to the 
Home now, will you.?” said Sue, regret- 
fully. 

“Not much! And we wouldn’t any- 
way,” snapped Cale. “No Haven Hill 
Home for Destitute Boys for us.” 

“And we are going to school next 
week, and to Sunday school just as we 
did before papa died,” spoke up Winch, 
with a little catch in his voice, for they 
had loved their father dearly. 

“Well,” said Sue, with envious slow- 
ness, “I suppose now you think your- 
selves better’n me and Joe?” 

“Rather,” replied Trux, coolly. “But 
you can look at our tree all the same. 
No stick candy and sour balls in ours. 
A pound box for each — just fine!” 

Sue sighed deeply. She had come to 


72 


THE DANA KIDS 


boast and fill their hearts with jealousy 
and envy, and here were the tables turned 
completely. Joe felt his defeat as keenly 
as did his sister. He would not even 
look at their new sled, or give any opinion 
regarding its speed merit, although cor- 
dially invited to do so, and both left crest- 
fallen and silent, with the united shout 
of “Merry Christmas’’ ringing in their 
ears from all the “Dana kids.” 

It was a nine days’ wonder to the Day- 
ton folk — that remarkable box! 

Miss Wiggins and ’Squire NefF and the 
other obtrusive and inquisitive “church 
workers” could not solve the mystery. 
They had heard that it might be Judge 
Thornley, but he positively disclaimed any 
knowledge whatever of it. Two or three 
others of the more well-to-do villagers 
had been mentioned as the possible donor, 
but each and all strenuously denied that 
they knew a word about it. 

73 


THE DANA KIDS 


The Monday following the New Year 
the three eldest Dana boys started for 
school, looking so trig and manly in their 
new suits that Uncle Silas, who chanced 
to meet them on the way, stopped to con- 
gratulate them on their fine appearance, 
and declare that they deserved all the 
good luck unmistakably coming their 
way at last. 


74 


CHAPTER VII 


JOE AND SUE ARE REPENTANT 

The winter passed, and April came in 
mild and spring-like, and with it came 
Judge Thornley, very dignified and brief 
of speech, to call on Mrs. Dana. In his 
concise, judicial manner, he informed 
her that a client of his, a gentleman of 
wealth, had recently purchased the Par- 
ker Place, as it was called, at Lakeview, 
a village eight miles from Dayton, with 
the intention of occupying it a few weeks 
during the summer, but had changed his 
mind, and he and his family had decided 
to go to Europe instead. He had in- 
structed him to find a trusty caretaker 
for the place, and the judge thought that 
Mrs. Dana was just the person required. 
Some people might object to so many 
children, especially boys, but the young 
75 


THE DANA KIDS 


Danas had the reputation of being good, 
obedient lads, therefore he felt justified 
in making the offer to Mrs. Dana. There 
was a commodious house, partly fur- 
nished, six acres of land, some stock, 
fowls, a large garden, and plenty of fruit. 
They were to take the best care of the 
place in lieu of rent. 

Mrs. Dana was quite overwhelmed; 
grandma could not express her gratitude 
at the largeness and generosity of the 
amazing and wholly unexpected propo- 
sition. He need not fear that the chil- 
dren would do any damage to house, 
fruit trees, or anything else. So it was 
soon settled. They would go, and that 
rightly gladly and thankfully. 

Trux had a nimble pair of legs, and the 
way he “sprinted over to Uncle Silas 
Craig’s was a caution,” as Cale said. 

Uncle Silas must be told the good news 
before anyone else heard of it. 

76 


THE DANA KIDS 


The old man was overjoyed. 

‘^Just the thing!’’ he exclaimed, “just 
the thing! It’s a nice place. I heard 
lately it had been bought by some city 
gentleman for a sort of hunting lodge. 
High ground, lots of shade, good fishing 
in the lake, and hunting back in the hills. 
It shan’t be said that I do no more than 
wish you well. I’ll hitch up my double 
team and the big wagon and see you 
moved, all right, Trux. You tell your 
mother I’ll be ready any time she says.” 

The next day Cale and Trux, on their 
way to bid Joe and Sue good-by, met 
Miss Wiggins going to the village store 
with a basket of eggs on her arm, which 
it was her purpose to exchange for vari- 
ous groceries. 

“Good-by,” said Cale, with assumed 
gravity. “Good-by, Miss Jane!” 

“Why, what on earth do you mean.?” 
she asked, sternly, stopping short and 


77 


THE DANA KIDS 


eying them with great disfavor. She 
could never forgive the boys for not going 
to the “Home/’ and their mysterious 
prosperity, the source of which neither 
she nor they had ever been able to fathom, 
aggravated her almost beyond endurance. 

“Just what I say,” replied Cale. “We 
are going to Lakeview to live.” 

“Lakeview! to live.?” she gasped. 

“Yes. At the Parker Place.” 

“Caleb Dana, do you not know that it 
is wicked to tell stories .?” 

“But it is the truth. Trux can tell 
you that it is true. We are going 
tomorrow.” 

Trux nodded assent. 

“Going to take city boarders, I sup- 
pose .?” 

“No. Going to be gentlemen farmers,” 
replied Cale. 

Miss Jane sniffed disbelievingly, and 
walked on, mingled wrath and doubt 
78 


THE DANA KIDS 


filling her mind, but a firm determination 
to know if it ‘‘was so’’ before she returned 
home. 

The Barneys had been in hard luck of 
late. Mr. Barney had been practically 
out of work for a month. Joe had fallen 
on the ice in February, and broken his 
arm, and Mrs. Barney had been sick 
most of the winter, and Sue, being the 
eldest girl, had to work pretty hard. So 
it was not altogether to “crow” that 
Trux and Cale set out to pay their fare- 
well visit to their old-time enemies. They 
really were sorry for them. 

“Coin’ to move,” said Joe, vaguely, 
when told of their intended departure 
from Dayton. “Where to.^” 

Trux told him. Joe’s countenance fell. 

“I wish I had your luck, Trux Dana,” 
he grumbled. “ Things seem to come right 
out of the sky for you.” 

“Oh, no,” replied Trux. “We just 


79 


THE DANA KIDS 


keep up a good heart and turn a smiling 
face to the unfeeling world.’’ 

‘^And when we are hungry we don’t 
tell of it,” added Cale. ‘‘And when we 
are cold we don’t send for the neighbors 
to come and see us shiver, eh, Trux.?” 
and he laughed up in his brother’s bright 
face in a reminiscent way Joe was too 
obtuse to understand. 

Sue glowered sulkily, and wished she 
was going to live in a fashionable place 
like Lakeview, where one could see some- 
body besides old Sile Craig and Jane 
Wiggins. 

“ Well, we will remember you when 
our ship comes in,” promised Trux, 
magnanimously. 

“Ship comes in! Why, you ain’t going 
to sea, too, are you ?” And Sue’s fishy blue 
eyes opened wide in astonishment at this 
new announcement. 

“Oh, no; that is only one of grandma’s 

8o 


THE DANA KIDS 


sayings/’ explained Trux. ‘‘When our 
fortune is made, you know.” 

Both Sue and Joe, however, felt deeply 
aggrieved by what they termed the boys’ 
miraculously bestowed favors, and Sue’s 
sullen, “Hope you’ll like it,” and Joe’s 
glum, “ Swelled head for your’s after 
this,” was a most ungracious return for 
the boys’ kindly meant farewell. The 
truth was, Joe and Sue, judging from 
their own shortcomings, suspected there 
was a good deal of “crow” in it, hence 
their waspish leave-taking. 

The middle of April found the Danas 
well settled in their new home, and as 
busy as bees. There was the garden to 
make, and Trux and Cale had now a 
much better chance to “get jobs” than 
when they lived at Dayton. There was 
a number of villas and bungalows scat- 
tered among the hills, and all the fast 
through trains stopped at Lakeview, it 

r 8i 


THE DANA KIDS 


being a county seat with a court house, 
a daily paper, a bank, and several excel- 
lent hotels of the up-to-date sort. Trux 
took out pleasure parties on the little 
lake, and in other ways managed to make 
considerable money, which, with the gar- 
den, cow, fowls, and fruit, gave them a 
comfortable living. Blossom was able 
to run about now, and Trux was getting 
to be quite a big boy. 

It was in June that Uncle Silas came 
over and said he was going to take them 
all to the circus that was billed to arrive 
at Lakeview the latter part of the month. 
He had not been to a circus in twenty 
years, and this was too good an oppor- 
tunity to let slip. It was then Trux showed 
the true magnanimity of his nature. 

“That is very kind of you,” he said, 
while the other kids hailed the proposi- 
tion with war whoops of ecstatic approval. 
“You see. Uncle Silas, since we have been 


82 


THE DANA KIDS 


SO fortunate, and some one was and still 
is our unknown friend, I — that is, if you 
don’t mind — I’d like to ask Joe and Sue 
to go with us. You could fetch them with 
you, and mother would have a nice din- 
ner for us when we got back. They have 
had a hard time of it, you know, and — 
and I promised them, half in fun, but all 
the same a promise.” 

‘‘I understand,” replied Silas. ^‘All 
right, son. I never did like that outfit 
overmuch, but it does credit to your heart 
and head, Trux, it does so.” 

Thus it was when the day came and the 
four Dana boys were ready and waiting, 
up drove Uncle Silas with the big grays 
and the double-seated spring wagon, and 
there on the high seat beside him was 
Joe and Sue, in their best Sunday raiment, 
well brushed and mended, but conspicu- 
ously outgrown and threadbare. Sue’s 
sailor hat looked sunburned, and “of 
83 


THE DANA KIDS 


last year’s vintage,” as Cale was moved 
to remark in an aside to Trux. But no 
matter, they would have a good time 
anyway. Mrs. Dana had prepared an 
early lunch, for they wanted to see the 
animals before the circus began. Joe, 
it must be confessed, was ill at ease. He 
felt an awakening of conscience, which 
he designated to himself as feeling “fool- 
ish,” and Sue, in the same spirit of self- 
contrition, defined as “remorse.” 

When he could do so without being 
heard by the others, he said, meekly enough : 

“Trux, I can’t accept all this from 
you — lunch and show and all the rest — 
without first tellin’ you that I’m sorry I 
used you so mean when you was at Day- 
ton. And — and your father just died, and 
things.” Joe stuck at that, and Trux put 
his hand on his shoulder in a reassuring way. 

“Never mind, old man,” he replied. 
“I bear no ill will.” 


84 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘I know you don’t, or you wouldn’t 
have asked us,” said Joe, his voice trem- 
bling suspiciously. “Sue feels just as I 
do. She told me to speak for her, too. 
She said she hadn’t the courage. Sue 
ain’t so bad — ^just aggravatin’ and bound 
to have the last word, and she’s sorry. 
So am I. We — ^we hope you will — ” 

“Oh, I do,” interrupted Trux. “I for- 
give you both. That’s all past. Mother 
says to always look on the bright side of 
life and the better side of people.” 

Joe looked relieved, and at once entered 
into the spirit of the holiday with hearty 
zest. Just as they were about to start Sue 
sidled up to Trux, “remorse” written in 
every feature of her freckled face. 

“Joe told you, didn’t he, Trux.^” she 
said, plaintively. “I was afraid to.” 

“Yes,” laughed Trux, “Joe has made 
a full confession and has been entirely 
forgiven.” 


85 


THE DANA KIDS 


“That I was sorry about — ’’ quavered 
Sue, winking back a repentant tear. 

“The Haven Hill Home, the snow- 
balls, and the barrel staves sled,’’ finished 
Trux. “Yes, Joe said as much as that 
you could not sleep at night any more 
because of your past sins. But cheer up, 
Susan Maria Barney, you are forgiven, 
and henceforth sleep in peace.” 

“Now you are making fun of me, I 
know,” she replied, dolefully. “ But I am 
glad, truly glad, Trux, that you are get- 
ting along so well. We ain’t. We are 
awful poor now. I guess it’s a judgment 
on us, as Miss Wiggins says when things 
go wrong,” and there were actually tears 
in Sue’s pale blue eyes, as she looked up 
from under the faded sailor, and her 
skimpy gingham frock and worn shoes 
made it seem real true that they were 
almost as poor now as the Danas had 
once been. 


86 


THE DANA KIDS 


But Trux cheered her up with his 
pleasant, “Oh, that’s all right,” not 
appearing to notice the scant gingham 
or 'broken shoes. 

The circus was a splendid success, and 
so was the dinner that followed, and Joe 
and Sue went home tired but happy, and 
with an invitation from Mrs. Dana and 
grandma to come again and stay all day, 
and Trux would take them out in his 
boat and fish for bass. 

“Now, that is what I call returning 
good for evil,” remarked Cale, as he 
watched their departure in the dusk of 
the June twilight. 

“Whole shovelfuls of coals of fire.” 
added Winch. “We’ve made it hot for 
them in a way they little suspected.” 

“Well, you see, I remembered the days 
of Miss Jane and her sour corn meal and 
frozen potatoes too well not to have a 
kindly feeling for even our enemies of 
87 


THE DANA KIDS 


that miserable winter at Dayton/’ said 
Trux. “They didn’t treat us right, I 
know, but then a good many others didn’t 
either.” 

“How about Uncle Silas’ turkeys and 
other things.?” reminded Cale, “and K. 
Kringle’s box.? I’d give a whole lot, if I 
had it, to know who the mysterious Mr. 
K. Kringle really is. I’ve cudgelled my 
brains for an answer, but in vain. It was 
the turning point in our fortune anyway, 
and maybe we shall know some time.” 


88 


CHAPTER VIII 


TRUX MEETS CLYDE ELGAR 

A YEAR had gone by and it was June 
again. The past winter had been one of 
comfort and freedom from care — quite 
different from the last spent at Dayton. 

The Dana boys were growing fast, 
and Trux was already as tall as his 
mother. Bright, active, and industrious, 
he was the life of the family, with promise 
of being a man of affairs when really 
grown up. Everybody liked Trux Dana. 
Willing, well-mannered, and good- 
tempered, he made friends wherever he 
was known, and the wealthy young fel- 
lows who comprised the Arno Hunting 
and Fishing Club, and had a bungalow 
two miles from the village, when they 
left the previous September presented 

89 


THE DANA KIDS 


him with a handsome rowboat as a mark 
of their regard. Every day during the 
season he had fetched their mail, and the 
city papers, and anything else they might 
require from Lakeview. In this wise he 
had made himself not only useful, but 
won the club’s lasting friendship also. 

Trux and Cale were out in their boat 
one day when a smart pony cart, in which 
were seated a man and a boy, stopped on 
the shore of the lake. The boy was, per- 
haps, a year or so older than Trux, but so 
pale and frail-looking that he did not 
appear half his size. The strange lad 
seemed greatly interested in what the 
boys in the boat were doing, and, turn- 
ing to the spectacled young man beside 
him, said, wistfully: 

“I’d like to be able to do that. Do you 
believe I ever shall, Mr. Temple.?” 

“I trust so,” replied the man, who was 
the boy’s tutor, in a matter-of-fact tone 


90 


THE DANA KIDS 


of voice. Mr. Temple was not a very 
sympathetic person. 

Noticing the boy’s wistful look, Trux, 
in his frank, friendly way, approached 
and asked if he would not like to take a 
row out on the lake. 

Before the boy could answer, the tutor 
shook his head negatively and ordered 
Patrick, the coachman, to drive on. 

“How pale and thin he looked,” said 
Cale, when the occupants of the pony cart 
were out of hearing. “ I know he would have 
liked to have had a row if that spectacled 
chap hadn’t been so all-fired bossy. I 
wonder who he is — the boy, I mean 

“I don’t know,” replied Trux. “He’s 
stopping at the Bellevue Hotel, at least 
the man with him is. I’ve seen him quite 
often, but never the boy, only driving as 
you saw him now. Sometimes he goes 
out in the pony cart and has a man in 
livery with him.” 

91 


THE DANA KIDS 


The next afternoon it happened that 
the boy, in his fashionably appointed 
cart, drove along the lakeside again, and 
this time without either the tutor or the 
man in livery. 

At a word from the boy Patrick pulled 
up the pony just as Trux drew in a two- 
pound bass. Without a moment’s hesi- 
tation, he ran up the bank to the road to 
show his prize to the wan-cheeked, deli- 
cate boy in the cart. 

‘‘Wouldn’t you like to try your luck.?” 
said Trux, cordially. “It’s fine sport when 
the fish bite, as they are doing today.” 

“I can’t,” replied the boy, sadly. “I — 
I’m lame.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” apologized Trux. “I 
did not know.” 

And then he saw that one leg seemed to 
be much shorter than the other, and the 
boy wore a kind* of iron brace, or shoe, to 
make up for the difference in length. 


92 


THE DANA KIDS 


“Tve often thought Td like to row and 
fish and swim and play ball like other 
boys/’ continued the pale young stranger, 
‘‘but I can’t. I’m too much of a cripple.” 

“Oh, no, you are not; come on,” 
urged Trux. “It will do you good. You 
are not lame enough to always have to 
ride.” 

“I’d like to,” replied the other, waver- 
ingly. “Is the water very deep.?” 

“Not just here,” said Trux. “But 
out in the middle of the lake it is. We 
will keep near the shore if you like.” 

Patrick grinned his approval, and 
glanced admiringly at Trux, which was 
as much as he dare do when on duty. 

“I believe I’ll try it,” decided the boy, 
“ but first, will you tell me your name .?” 

“Why, yes. My name is James Trux- 
ton Dana — Trux for short. The fellow 
in the boat is my brother Cale, and you 
are—?” 


93 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘Clyde Elgar,” was the quick response. 
“Fm staying at the Bellevue Hotel. My 
people thought Fd get strong here. But 
I don’t know,” and he sighed doubtfully. 

“Oh, Fm sure you will,” encouraged 
Trux, careful not to notice the lame foot 
as the boy, with difficulty, alighted and 
stood unsteadily on the ground — some- 
thing he was not used to doing unassisted. 

“Row in, Cale,” Trux called to his 
brother. “ Clyde Elgar is going to try his 
luck with the fish.” 

Cale promptly complied, and the three 
soon pushed off. Trux skilfully baited 
the hook with a very lively grasshopper. 
The pole was just a birch sapling that 
he had made himself, and hardly had 
Clyde been given his first cast than the 
bait was taken by a hungry bass that 
made a game fight to free itself from the 
hook. But Clyde held on manfully, his 
white cheeks beginning to glow with 


94 


THE DANA KIDS 


healthful excitement and unwonted exer- 
tion. When he had his catch safely in the 
boat he had quite forgotten his painful 
affliction and was as proud of his pisca- 
torial achievement as a boy could be. 

“This is great!’’ he exclaimed, pushing 
back his expensive straw hat and wiping 
his heated brow with a fine linen hand- 
kerchief. “I never went fishing before. 
Where do you live?” 

“Just across the lake, in that white 
house you see beyond the two big elms,” 
replied Trux. “There are five of us kids 
— four boys and the baby — a girl. How 
many are there of you ?” 

“Only myself. My father and mother 
are abroad,” answered Clyde. “They 
will not be home until November. A 
friend of my mother’s told her about this 
place being so healthful, and was certain I 
would be greatly benefited if I came here. 
I’m sure, I hope so.” 


95 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘Oh, you will. You can’t help it,” said 
Trux. “I wouldn’t mind being a little 
lame like that if I were you. I’d just fish 
and row and swim with the best of them, 
and make up for things that I could not 
do with things that I could.” 

“That is just like Trux,” laughed 
Gale. “You couldn’t floor him if he had 
no legs at all.” 

“Yes, you are both strong,” rejoined 
Clyde, looking at his own thin, white 
hands and then at Gale’s brown paws. 
“You are out in the sun most of the time 
and can get about without anyone’s help.” 

“And so can you, if you only try,” said 
Trux. “Come across to supper with us, and 
you will see my mother and grandmother. 
Father is dead, and we had hard times at first 
until we were helped by a fairy godmother.” 

Clyde looked incredulous, but Trux 
seemed perfectly sincere in his statement, 
and continued: 


96 


THE DANA KIDS 


“You can send the pony cart around 
the lake by the lower road. We will row 
you across, and we will have the fish 
cooked for supper.” 

Clyde readily assented. Patrick was 
directed to come for him at eight o’clock, 
and that is how the “Dana kids” came 
to know, and later love, Clyde Elgar. 

Mrs. Dana welcomed the invalid boy with 
a mother’s sympathetic tenderness for his 
misfortune, and grandma could not do 
enough for him. With all his wealth and 
hired attendants he seemed so lonely and 
apart from sturdy, boyish companionship. 
Blossom made friends on the instant, and 
showed him her doll and woolly sheep, and 
various others of her personal treasures. 

Clyde declared it was the best and 
jolliest day he had ever known, and could 
he come again .? 

“Yes,” answered all the “kids” in one 
voice. “Come every day.” 


97 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘You don’t need a tutor always tag- 
ging after you and acting as if you were 
not able to do a single thing for yourself,” 
said Trux. “We will show you life at 
Parker Place, and a kind of society you 
never dreamed of. We’ll introduce you 
to Uncle Silas, the best old fellow going, 
and Miss Jane Wiggins, a benevolent 
lady of our more youthful days, and Joe 
Barney and his charming sister. Sue. 
That will be a variety to make you laugh, 
and grow strong as a prize fighter. Your 
folks won’t know you when they return 
in the fall, you will be so changed.” 

“Come out to the barn now and see 
my chickens,” invited Winch. “I’ve got 
fifty chickens, and Gale’s got twenty-two 
turkeys and as many ducks.” 

“And my three little pigs,” spoke up 
Tommy, determined not to be left out of 
the party or have his individual posses- 
sions slighted. 


98 


THE DANA KIDS 


So they bore Clyde olF in triumph to 
the barn, not one of the finely natured 
little chaps appearing to notice his pain- 
ful limp, and showed him the kind and 
number of their several special proper- 
ties. When they returned to the house 
supper was ready, and Clyde was regaled 
with the fish that were swimming in the 
lake two hours before. It was quite 
dark when Patrick came with the pony 
cart, and amid the enthusiastic waving of 
hats and hearty shouts of “come again 
soon, and stay all night,” Clyde was 
driven away, pretty well tired out, but 
filled with a new sense of hope and self- 
help, that there was something in life for 
him to do and live for. Privately he 
told himself he meant to be as near like 
the Dana boys as possible — as high- 
minded, courageous, and manly. 


99 


CHAPTER IX 


A LUCKY FALL 

If Mr. Temple, the very correct tutor, 
objected to the new order of things, it 
was merely in a perfunctory way. Mas- 
ter Clyde was at Lakeview for his health 
and pleasure, and as he had, upon careful 
inquiry, learned that the Danas were the 
right sort of boys, it might be as well to 
let his delicate charge have a free rein 
during his vacation, and perhaps it would 
ultimately be of great and permanent 
benefit to him. Clyde needed com- 
panions of his own age, and a little ac- 
quaintance with ‘‘the middle classes,” 
as Mr. Temple was pleased to term it, 
would do him no harm. 

In a comparatively short time Clyde 
could fish and row as well as any of them. 
His blistered hands at first rather dis- 


100 


THE DANA KIDS 


mayed him, but he wouldn’t give in, and 
kept at it until his palms were as hard as 
Gale’s, and he laughed at tan and sun- 
burn, even a few freckles was nothing to 
care about. Of course, he could not run, 
or join in any of the usual boyish games, 
but when the harvest apples were ripe, 
and Gale and Trux shinned up the 
crooked old trees like squirrels, and 
Winch and Tommy were not far behind, 
Glyde thought he might venture to at 
least go as high as the first large branches. 

Success thus far, however, served only 
to fire his ambition to greater deeds of 
daring, and up he went, unmindful of 
his lameness, and then — it happened so 
quickly nobody knew just how, anyway, 
down he fell, and the first Trux knew 
there was a crash, and Glyde was lying 
on the ground with a broken leg and 
‘‘groaning for all he was worth,” as 
Winch graphically expressed it. Trux 


lOI 


THE DANA KIDS 


and Cale got him to the house as speedily 
and carefully as they could, and once on 
the lounge in the sitting room Trux made 
record time for Dr. Smedley. And you 
may believe the old doctor was hustled 
to the aid of the injured boy with a haste 
and insistence that would brook no delay. 
The broken bone was set, the leg encased 
in a plaster cast, and, with a twenty- 
pound bag of sand attached, Clyde was 
made as comfortable as possible. 

In reply to Mrs. Dana’s anxious in- 
quiry, Dr. Smedley assured her that it 
was a clean, simple fracture. The boy 
would be all right in six weeks at the 
most. He would come again in the morn- 
ing and see how the patient was getting 
along. 

After the doctor was gone it was Trux, as 
usual, who essayed the role of comforter. 

‘‘Never mind, Clyde,” he said. “It’s 
your short leg any way, and that’s a good 


102 


THE DANA KIDS 


thing, for it can’t make it any worse than 
it was before. I’ll have to let Mr. Temple 
know, though.” 

‘‘That’s so,” replied Clyde. “But he 
mustn’t make a row, or write to my father 
about it. I’ll never forgive him if he 
does.” 

Mr. Temple, when duly informed of 
the accident, promised, if there were no 
serious complications, to keep silent; 
otherwise, his duty would oblige him to 
tell Clyde’s parents. 

When Dr. Smedley came the next day, 
after taking the patient’s temperature 
and giving him a thorough looking over 
to make sure there was no fever, he 
announced, with professional certainty, 
that everything was progressing favor- 
ably, and so far as any permanent injury 
was to be feared, it was quite the reverse. 
There was, in fact, a possibility that the 
accident might result in lasting good. 

103 


THE DANA KIDS 


The fracture in healing might induce 
or stimulate natural growth in the 
shrunken limb, and where the best 
special treatment had failed the ordinary 
skill of a mere . country doctor might 
succeed, or rather a broken bone in knit- 
ting might cause renewed vigor of a per- 
fectly normal nature, thereby increasing 
the circulation, and consequently the 
healthy growth of the withered member. 
If this were to be, Clyde would in time 
have as sound a leg as any boy could wish, 
for there was no deformity. It was such 
a glorious possibility that Trux was afraid 
to speak of it to Clyde lest the hope end 
in disappointment, for Dr. Smedley had 
taken pains to say it was “only a pos- 
sibility.'’ 

However it might be with his broken 
leg, the rest of Clyde Elgar was surely 
growing, for in three weeks’ time he had 
gained, Trux was certain, ten pounds in 


104 


THE DANA KIDS 


weight. His dark, earnest eyes were 
bright with youth and returning health, 
his cheeks plump and rosy, and he was 
getting muscle, as anyone could see, and 
outgrowing all his clothes at an alarming 
rate. Trux hoped great things from the 
stretching effect of the bag of sand when 
the plaster cast was taken off. 

Dr. Smedley smiled and rubbed his 
hands together in a pleased way more 
and more at every visit, and winked 
knowingly at Trux every time he caught 
his eye. 

And what didn’t those “kids” do to 
make the time pass pleasantly to Clyde .f* 
As soon as he was deemed convalescent 
they hung around his bed — the whole 
four of them, anxious to be of use, and 
Blossom begged to be lifted up for a 
“tiss” about every fifteen minutes. When 
he was able to sit in an invalid’s chair they 
had him out on the porch, where he could 
loS 


THE DANA KIDS 


enjoy the clear sunshine and breathe the 
pure, invigorating air, blowing cool and 
fresh over miles and miles of garnered 
fields and hilly heights. 

Mr. Temple came every day, as in duty 
bound, to see how his young charge was 
progressing, and departed each time well 
satisfied that Clyde was in good hands and 
getting along finely. 

Mrs. Dana and grandma made no end 
of dainty dishes to tempt the invalid’s 
appetite, which was now getting robust, 
and gaining ‘‘a cinch or two every meal,” 
as Cale inelegantly noted it. 

Finally came the great event — the re- 
moval of the plaster cast. Dr. Smedley 
looked exceedingly grave, yet, withal, 
confident at the critical moment. At 
last, after a careful examination, he said, 
heartily: 

‘‘Clyde Elgar, my boy, I congratulate 
you! I was almost afraid to think it, but 

io6 


THE DANA KIDS 


you have two as sound legs as any boy 
living! The fracture and consequent 
inflammation was the direct cause of 
renewed vitality in the puny limb. You 
are improving, too, otherwise. Grow .? 
Why, you are two inches taller than you 
were before you had that lucky fall.’’ 

Then Trux and Cale could keep still 
no longer. With one accord they fell 
to hugging Clyde with bear-like energy. 

“Bless the old harvest apple tree and 
Dr. Smedley!” exclaimed Trux, delight- 
edly. “When you are a little stronger, 
old man, and it gets a little used to doing 
the right thing, you will dance a two- 
step on that leg. You will make a home 
run sure, and a tackle that will beat the 
band! Why, your folks will be so over- 
joyed they won’t know what to do. And 
we — ” 

Words failed him. Trux stopped short. 
There was a general howl of applause, 
107 


THE DANA KIDS 


in the midst of which Mrs. Dana begged 
that there be less noise lest they excite 
Clyde too much. 

But it was no use. Clyde was ^‘all 
right.’’ Nobody ever died of joy. 
“Hurra!” shouted Trux, as a climax, 
and “Hurra!” came the jubilant chorus. 
Even Dr. Smedley joined in, so infectious 
was the rejoicing. 

And then it was seen that Trux’s eyes 
— those wonderful, magnetic, gray-blue 
eyes of his, were full of tears, and so were 
Clyde’s. The glad “hurra” had its in- 
spiration from a warm, tender heart. 

Dr. Smedley said, “Well, well!” half 
to himself, and turned away with a rising 
in his throat that really surprised him. 
It had been so long since he had experi- 
enced anything of the kind. 

When the happy tumult had some- 
what subsided grandma bent over and 
kissed the boy on cheek and brow. 

io8 


THE DANA KIDS 


“His mother will be so glad and thank- 
ful,” she prayerfully whispered. “Her 
dear and only child! How rich a blessing 
ha^ the kind Father given her this day!” 

Mr. Temple, the next morning when 
he called, heard the good news with 
genuine feeling. He had become so accus- 
tomed to Clyde’s hobbling limp that to 
see him with two normal legs seemed 
little less than miraculous. 

It so happened that Uncle Silas unex- 
pectedly came over from Dayton that 
morning, and he, too, had a spell of sin- 
cere thanksgiving, and said Clyde was a 
brave, sensible chap that no amount of 
money could spoil. But, then, any boy 
couldn’t help being that when he was 
with the Dana kids. They were straight 
goods, all of them, but Trux was his 
favorite. 

Even Joe and Sue came to offer con- 
gratulations — the latter also to show her 

109 


THE DANA KIDS 


new hat, with its wreath of stiff blue 
cornflowers. Sue’s nose still turned up, 
her sandy hair was as hard to manage as 
ever, but she was not so thin, and “in 
time she might be passable,” as Uncle 
Silas remarked, not unkindly. 

As to Miss Jane Wiggins, she was too 
busy with her all-important “church 
work” to sympathize with anybody, and 
as one of the managers of the Haven 
Hill Home, she had no time to make a 
fuss over a boy getting well of a broken 
leg. 


no 


CHAPTER X 


. CLYDE GIVES CREDIT TO THE ‘^KIDS’’ 

Early in November the Elgars re- 
turned from Europe. Clyde had a great 
surprise in store for them, for not one 
word had they ever been told of his 
changed appearance. Sun-burned, well- 
grown, and in high spirits, he met his 
parents at the station. At first they did 
not recognize him, but when his mother 
did, her astonished, ‘‘Why, is it really 
you, Clyde, my dear son?” and his joy- 
ous, “Yes, it is I — well, and as you see, 
not lame at all!” was beautiful to behold. 

His father’s, “How delighted I am, my 
boy, to meet you looking like this!” was 
no less impressive. “It is wonderful! 
How did it happen ? What caused such 
a marvellous change? And you are not 
a bit lame.” 


THE DANA KIDS 


‘‘It all came about through a fall I had 
four months ago,’’ replied Clyde, return- 
ing his father’s rapturous hug with impet- 
uous ardor. “I fell out of an apple tree 
and broke my leg.” 

“Broke your leg!” exclaimed his 
mother, aghast. 

“Yes, my game leg, as it fortunately 
chanced, above the knee, and the Dana 
kids and Dr. Smedley did the rest. 

Mrs. Elgar looked so puzzled that 
Clyde explained the matter more lucidly. 

“You see, the doctor here, who 
attended me, said that for some learned 
reason that I don’t know much about, 
my leg had not been sufficiently nour- 
ished, and so it stopped growing while 
the other didn’t. That is not the way 
the New York City specialist said it was, 
and I believe now he was just a big fraud. 
I’ve been playing tennis and golf and 
fishing and rowing and taking long 


II2 


THE DANA KIDS 


tramps among the hills for almost two 
months.” 

“You wrote us about the Dana kids, 
but ‘kids’ — is that quite the right word 
to designate such nice boys.?” said Mrs. 
Elgar, with gentle reproof. 

“Everybody calls them that,” replied 
Clyde. “I know you will like them. 
Trux is the best ever, and has the finest 
eyes you ever saw.” 

“I must, indeed, see those splendid 
boys right away, and thank them for all 
they have done for you,” declared Mrs. 
Elgar. “Your letters kept us so well 
informed that I already seem to know 
them all — the whole family, from 

grandma down to little Blossom. Mrs. 
Larue was as much interested as were 
we, and when she comes to know the 
whole story she will enjoy it all im- 
mensely, I’m sure. But to think you 
never mentioned the broken leg, and 
113 


H 


THE DANA KIDS 


you must have written many of those 
long letters while helpless and alone, 
suffering — ” 

“Not alone or helpless while there was 
a kid about,’’ laughingly interrupted 
Clyde. “Why, they roosted on my bed, 
or the arm of my chair, one or the other 
of them, all the time, and sometimes two 
or three. The jolliest lot you can imagine, 
and ready any hour of the day or night 
to run their legs off to get anything they 
thought I’d like. And Mrs. Dana and her 
mother! Oh, no, I wasn’t a bit lonely. 
But I believe I should have died,” 
admitted Clyde, more soberly, “if I had 
had to remain at the hotel with Mr. 
Temple all those long weeks with a 
twenty-pound bag of sand ■ dragging at 
my leg. It’s a good, strong leg now, 
however, so I don’t complain.” 

Clyde, of course, had a lot more to tell, 
but as he said it would take a week to 

114 


THE DANA KIDS 


relate all that had taken place since he 
came to Lakeview, further questions and 
explanation would have to be postponed 
for the present. 

Mrs. Elgar, the very next day after 
her arrival, called on Mrs. Dana. One 
can readily imagine the sort of interview 
it was. She warmly thanked them all 
for their great kindness to her son. 
Winch and Tommy and Blossom were 
given a kiss apiece and a tender caress 
by the handsomely gowned, sweet-faced 
lady, whom they were sure had tears in 
her eyes as she did it. Trux and Cale 
were not at home, ‘‘and mighty glad of 
it, too,’’ was their mutual thought, for 
they did not want to be thanked for every 
little thing they had done for Clyde. 

When the conversation became more 
general Mrs. Elgar casually remarked 
that Mrs. Larue would join them the 
following week, for they had decided to 
IIS 


THE DANA KIDS 


Spend at least a month in this quiet vil- 
lage among the hills with its bracing air 
and picturesque scenery. 

And a fine time the boys had! The 
pony cart and Patrick were put at the 
disposal of the young Danas, and Mrs. 
Elgar visited them quite often, frequently 
staying to tea, and never failing to admire 
Tommy’s pigs. Winch’s ducks and tur- 
keys, and Blossom’s cunning little fox 
terrier, that Clyde had given her as a 
mark of his highest esteem. 


ii6 


CHAPTER XI 


A HAPPY DISCOVERY 

One morning there came a particularly 
urgent message for Trux to come to the 
Bellevue Hotel, ‘‘right off.” There was 
to be a motor trip to some place in the 
Catskills and Trux was to be Clyde’s 
special guest. 

Trux accepted with alacrity, for an 
auto ride was something he had never 
yet experienced, nor ever had a near 
view of the magnificent Catskill Moun- 
tains. He came in the pony cart, dressed 
in his best, and looking like a little gentle- 
man, which, indeed, he was. Clyde, who 
was waiting for him on the hotel piazza, 
ran to meet him. With an arm over his 
shoulder, boy fashion, Clyde conducted 
his young guest in triumph to Mrs. 
Elgar’s apartments, and that lady be- 


THE DANA KIDS 


ing at the moment absent from the room, 
he was obliged to ‘Mo the polite,’’ all by 
himself. 

“Mrs. Larue, his mother’s dearest 
friend,” he said, “was to be of the party 
— six in all. But first I must introduce 
you to Mrs. Larue. She came two days 
ago. Her husband is a famous lawyer 
and doesn’t care much for society, but 
he is big and brainy, and generous and 
companionable, too, when he has time 
to be, which is not often. But Mrs. 
Larue! Mother thinks the world of her. 
They are very rich. Have a grand town 
house, a fine place at Newport, and a 
hunting lodge in Scotland, but never 
any time to spend in any of them — 
always at his office. He will be here 
next week, though, so you’ll have a chance 
to see him.” 

Just as Clyde concluded his disjointed 
remarks, Mrs. Larue quietly entered the 

ii8 


THE DANA KIDS 


room. Trux was presented in due form. 
‘‘Mrs. Larue, this is Trux, the eldest of 
the Dana kids that I wrote mother about. 
You can’t help but like him — everyone 
does, and I more than like him — I love 
him. How is that, Trux.?” 

“I think I shall have no trouble in 
loving him, too,” replied Mrs. Larue, 
looking smilingly into Trux’s questioning 
eyes. “I think I have met James Trux- 
ton Dana before.” 

A great light suddenly broke upon 
Trux. The bewildered look vanished. 

“You are the lady who gave me the 
silver dollar — the very one !” he exclaimed, 
with startled clearness. “That was two 
winters ago, and you — ^yes, I know. I’m 
sure, you sent the box — the big Christmas 
box, to the Dana kids! Oh, I — ” Trux 
felt the tears coming and paused to re- 
cover himself. “If you could only know 
the good it did,” he continued, unsteadily. 

1 19 


THE DANA KIDS 


“We were in such need then — poor and 
proud and helpless.” And overcome by 
thoughts of that bitter winter at Dayton, 
Trux sobbed outright. 

Mrs. Larue drew him to her, and, as 
she had done that other time, laid a gentle, 
caressing hand on his bowed head. The 
touch was like a benediction. A great 
sighing breath welled up from the boy’s 
full heart. That white, slender hand, 
with its sparkling gems, how well he 
remembered it. Then as now it seemed 
to hold for him a promise of something 
better than he had ever known. Again 
he could see himself struggling through 
the deep snow, buffeted by the fierce 
wind, chilled, hungry, and well-nigh 
hopeless. And she had given him, that 
stormy night, the silver dollar that meant 
so much to him — to them all. No won- 
der Trux felt that if there ever was an 
angel on earth, Mrs. Larue was one. 


120 


THE DANA KIDS 


Clyde looked on in blank amazement. 
“Well, this gets me,” he said to himself, 
winking fast to clear his own eyes. 
“Why, Trux, you never told me a word 
about this.” 

“No, I couldn’t,” he replied. “I 
didn’t know myself until just now. It 
was all a mystery — ^we couldn’t think of 
anyone.” 

The tears were still trembling on his 
long lashes, but he smiled in his own 
sunshiny way as he again turned to Mrs. 
Larue. “I am glad it was you, and that 
we know. Mother will tell you how it 
was, and grandma — ” 

The loud toot of a big touring car cut 
short the rest, and Clyde hustled Trux 
away without giving him a chance to 
finish whatever it was he was going to 
say. 

Mrs. Ogden, as soon as she learned 
who “Kris Kringle” really was, straight- 


121 


THE DANA KIDS 


way called on Mrs. Larue. Neither of 
them would ever reveal the nature of the 
conference that took place between them. 
It was too much a part of that ‘‘solitude 
of selP’ that we all hold sacred and not 
to be spoken of lightly, even to those 
who are most dear to us. But this much 
of general interest is permissible: 

“James Truxton,’’ said Mrs. Larue, 
“was my father. He had little money at 
the start, but he was a man of ability and 
died wealthy.” 

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Ogden. “I knew 
him well when I was a girl,” a faint color 
suffusing her cheek. “We were friends 
— dear friends. I married John Ogden. 
He Florence King. And it was his 
daughter who — ” 

“His daughter who loves your noble 
grandson,” finished Mrs. Larue, impul- 
sively. “I have buried two boys, James 
Truxton, named for my father, and 


122 


THE DANA KIDS 


Edgar. That dreary winter day, when 
he told me his name, I felt that I had 
again a son. May I keep him 

“It is not for me to say,” gravely 
answered Mrs. Ogden. “His mother 
must decide.” And she did, in Mrs. 
Larue’s favor. 

Mrs. Dana, although not possessing 
her mother’s dauntless spirit, was a 
woman of good sense, and with three 
younger boys to educate and establish 
in life, she would not allow her personal 
feelings to stand in the way of her eldest 
son’s future well-being. 

Trux, speaking for himself, after long 
reflection, said: 

“I will stay with my mother another 
year, anyway. She needs me now as 
much as ever. I cannot leave her until 
Cale is old enough to take my place. 
Besides, the owner of the place may come 
at any time and then we should be badly 


123 


THE DANA KIDS 


off again, while the others are too young 
to be of much help/’ 

‘‘I do not believe you have anything 
to fear from that source,” answered Mrs. 
Larue, with a meaning smile. The place 
is your mother’s as long as she chooses 
to occupy it.” 

‘‘Do — do you — are you the owner of 
it?” stammered Trux, struck by a new 
thought. 

“Mr. Larue purchased it at my request, 
yes. But it is yours, and the others’, as 
long as they wish to remain,” explained 
Mrs. Larue. 

“I consulted Judge Thornley. He was 
the agent for the property, and was 
directed to secure a reliable caretaker 
as soon as it became mine by purchase.” 

“And Judge Thornley knew it all the 
time,” said Trux, amazedly. “And we 
all in the dark about the house, the care- 
taking, and the box?” 


124 


THE DANA KIDS 


“The box? No, that was a pleasant 
little secret all my own,’’ smiled Mrs. 
Larue. “You see, I made some inquiries 
while storm-bound at Dayton, and in 
that way learned all the facts in the case, 
an easy thing to do in so small a place. 

“It was your name that interested me 
at first. And then your eyes; I could 
not forget them. They seemed to follow 
me everywhere. They certainly are your 
windows of the soul, Trux. As to the 
Christmas box, if you had pleasure in 
receiving it, I equally so in sending it. 
The ‘Dana kids;’ I remember that was the 
name you were best known by in the village. 
The box must have surprised you.” 

“Surprised!” repeated Trux. “Well, 
I guess it did! I can’t begin to tell you 
what a treasure house of good things 
that box was to us. And I can never 
thank you enough for all you have done 
for us. Never repay you for — ” 


125 


THE DANA KIDS 


“Oh, yes you can,” interposed Mrs. 
Larue. “Many times repay me, and 
easily, too.” 

“How.?” began Trux, eagerly. “Tell 
me, and Til—” 

“ By going to a preparatory school 
this winter with Clyde. He will not take 
no for an answer,” she repiled. “And 
then to college. After that Mr. Larue 
is for the law.” 

And so it was finally settled. 

Trux was to go to school with Clyde, 
while Cale remained at home and man- 
aged the place. 

“It would not do to have more than 
one Solon in the family,” he said, “and 
if Trux should prove a case of swelled 
head, his would still be level, and there 
was Winch and Tommy to fall back 
on in case of wheels or serious enlarge- 
ment.” 

Cale was always practical, and could 

126 


THE DANA KIDS 


also mend a fence or hoe potatoes, and 
at the same time spell correctly. 

Uncle Silas Craig was still a stanch 
friend, and always willing to lend a help- 
ing hand, and give valuable advice when 
it came to garden making and cutting 
grass. 

Joe Barney is learning the blacksmith 
trade, and Sue has thoughts of becoming 
a trained nurse. But Winch vows he’d 
die before he’d ever let her nurse him. 

And so we leave them. 

Some ascribe the success of the Danas 
to mere luck. Others declare it just 
happened so, while still others are firm in 
the belief that they owe their prosperity 
to the whim of a rich woman who had 
more money than she knew what to do 
with and chose that way to spend some 
of it. 

But a few discerning people say it was 
because they were ' brought up right — 


127 


THE DANA KIDS 


poverty is no excuse for being ill-bred, 
rude, and ignorant. 

The “Dana kids’’ made friends, and 
kept them, of the desirable sort. The 
Jane Wiggins and ’Squire Neffs do not 
reflect the better side of charity by long 
odds. Besides, the “kids” could always 
see a ray of sunshine under the darkest 
cloud, did right, thought right, and were 
bright, brave, true-hearted boys. 

THE END. 


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